Free Christmas in the Snow by Karen Swan

gentleman and nurse, hearing the ambient noise level pick up. She rounded a corner and stopped in the doorway of a large octagonal room, taking a few deep breaths as she scanned the activity
inside. It was busy, with armchairs positioned in sociable fours and twos, the ones by the fireplace already taken. Some people were sitting alone reading newspapers, others playing board games,
yet others engaged in conversations . . .
    She looked around for Barry first, as he was the one who stood out here – his ruddy cheeks and bristly brown beard in stark youthful contrast to the wan complexions and bald pates found
here in abundance – but it was her mother that she found, sitting in a far corner, the shiny crown of her still head – her once-dark hair grey and slightly wiry now – gleaming
under the lights.
    It was early evening and condensation had misted the large windows slightly, blurring the landscape, and Allegra knew there would be a slight chill coming from the glass. She picked up a
lambswool tartan blanket from one of the empty chairs as she passed.
    She stopped just shy of the chair and swallowed, her heart banging like a drum in her chest. ‘Hi, Mum.’
    Her mother looked up – Allegra thirty-five years from now – her hair plaited loosely and positioned over one shoulder, her raisin-dark eyes so enquiring, so curious.
    ‘Allegra.’ The smile, her name . . . Allegra felt the tension inside her slacken.
    ‘How are you, Mum?’ she beamed, sinking into the angled chair beside her and automatically opening out the blanket over her mother’s legs. ‘Where’s Barry?
Aren’t you getting a chill from sitting so close to that window?’
    ‘He’s gone to get my cardigan. You fuss too much,’ she said, but her eyes were soft as Allegra tucked the blanket in around her.
    ‘Well, you should be in front of the fire. There was a hard frost last night.’
    ‘Just how I like it. You know I’ve always loved the cold.’
    ‘Don’t I just! I still haven’t forgiven you for taking eighteen years to install central heating.’
    Her mother chuckled, reaching for Allegra’s hand and holding it between both of hers. ‘You look pale, darling.’
    ‘I just need to get some more fresh air, that’s all. I don’t think I’ve spent even twenty minutes outside this week.’
    She refused to dwell on the last of those minutes – out on the steps of the V&A with Sam last night.
    ‘Don’t tell me – you’re working too hard again.’ Julia patted her hand. ‘I worry about you.’
    ‘I know you do,’ Allegra nodded. ‘But please don’t. I’m happy, Mum. I’m doing what I love.’
    Her mother’s eyes roamed her face, a blend of sadness and pride in her eyes. ‘So what have you been up to, then?’
    ‘Well, I was in Switzerland earlier this week,’ she said brightly. ‘Zurich. Only for an overnight stay, but . . .’ She shrugged, her voice trailing away. Did all roads
lead back to Kemp? ‘The lake looked so beautiful with all the lights on it. One of these days I’ll actually stay long enough to take a boat out on it.’
    ‘Aren’t you skiing soon? I get confused with your comings and goings. Barry’s written it down for me, but you’re always on a plane somewhere.’
    ‘Yes, I’m going to Verbier over the New Year.’
    ‘With friends?’ Her mother’s voice lifted.
    ‘Clients.’ She saw her mother’s expression. ‘That I get on with really well. They’re lovely. Almost friends.’ She swallowed. ‘It’ll be
fun.’
    ‘When did you last see your sister?’
    ‘Last weekend, actually. We spent Saturday morning together – Isobel and I took Ferdy for a walk in the park.’ She didn’t want to tell her mother how they’d spent
Sunday, closing up their family home for the last time, ridding it of all traces of them.
    ‘Isobel.’ Her mother’s voice was wistful. ‘I haven’t seen her lately.’
    ‘Really? She said she was going to come by this morning.’
    Julia shook her head.